Only when she looks over, Lady Rosalie is staring straight back at her. Catherine’s breath catches and they sit there, like time has frozen them in place. Catherine knows she should scowl and look back at her painting, but she’s as curious about Lady Rosalie as Lady Rosalie seems to be about her.
And she’s much more interesting to look at than anything, or anyone, up on the platform. She could stare at Lady Rosalie for hours, if only no one would notice...
Someone coughs behind her and Catherine jolts in her seat. Lady Rosalie looks back at her canvas, smirking. Catherine blows out a calming breath before turning to look up at Lady Jones.
The woman smiles and nods toward her painting, as if she hasn’t just caught Catherine staring at her niece.
“Very good indeed, MissPine,” she says.
Catherine feels herself flush. “Thank you.”
“Certainly a contender, if you can keep your focus.”
That flush makes its way up to her hairline. “Yes, Lady Jones,” she mumbles, looking back at her canvas, feeling chastised and caught. But then again, what’s wrong with scoping out her competition?
No one, not even Lady Jones, can know half of the time she’s staring at Lady Rosalie she’s just in awe of her beauty, and not at all thinking about their competition over Mr.Dean.
“Five minutes,” Lady Jones says, winking at her.
It’s hard for Catherine to reconcile the playful, funny Lady Jones with Mother’s history with Lady Tisend. By MissLinet’s account, Lady Tisend and Lady Jones get on like a house on fire, but all Catherine’s seen of Lady Tisend is her austerity. And her history with Catherine’s mother, the rumor she spread...
Beside her, MissRaught groans and wipes feverishly at her painting, bringing Catherine back out of her thoughts. She needs to win this to assuage whatever happened twenty-five years ago. To put Lady Tisend, and Lady Rosalie, and even lovely Lady Jones below them.
All too soon Lady Jones calls out, “Brushes down!” and Catherine sits back.
It’s good. But is it good enough?
“All right, aprons off and step back, ladies. Gents, you may resume normal human movement.”
Catherine undoes her apron, watching with amusement as the men all stand up stiffly, stretching aching joints. Mr.Dean blinks a few times and then helps Mr.Sholle up, the two of them smiling and exchanging some small talk.
Catherine turns to wander behind the horseshoe of easels like the other girls, perusing the competition before the boys come to judge. She keeps her mouth in a neutral line as she looks over MissRaught’s and MissLinet’s paintings. They’re lovely, but nothing compared to her own. She might even venture that hers is the best of the lot.
Until she comes to Lady Rosalie’s painting. While Catherine tried to perfect each gentleman’s pose, making them into parts of a greater whole, Lady Rosalie fully highlighted Mr.Dean. The other boys around him are less distinct, making him the center of attention. The detail, the shading, the way she’s captured his far-off gaze, making him wistful—it’s incredible.
Catherine wasn’t thinking about the competition as solely a way to impress Mr.Dean. Lady Rosalie’s clearly cleverer than she is.
Could she sneak over, add some gilding to Mr.Dean’s tie, or give his hair an extra little flip in the front? Catherine glances back toward her own portrait.
And there Lady Rosalie stands, stock-still, a nail between her teeth, staring at Catherine’s canvas. She’s frowning, looking how Catherine imagines she did only a moment earlier. Perhaps she thinks Catherine is more competition than she is?
“Your portrait is amazing.”
Catherine drags her eyes away from Lady Rosalie, turning toface Miss Raught and Miss Linet. “Yours are both beautiful,” Catherine says honestly.
“Not nearly as good as yours,” MissRaught insists.
“You’ve a real talent,” MissLinet adds, offering her what looks like true smile, before blowing at a lock of auburn hair that’s escaped her bonnet.
Catherine smiles uncomfortably. All this attention is still foreign, and her natural reaction is to shrink away. “Your shading is marvelous,” she tells MissRaught. “And the way you captured the light is really striking,” she tells MissLinet.
Both girls smile, surprised.
“Amalie and Henrietta are very talented,” Lady Rosalie says, appearing behind them, head high, all that concern and contemplation now gone from her face. “I’m glad they can hear it from someone else as well.”
MissRaught and MissLinet preen under Lady Rosalie’s attention. So it’s not just her. Lady Rosalie ensorcels everyone around her.
But the way her stomach flips when Lady Rosalie meets her eyes—she rather thinks MissLinet and MissRaught aren’t feeling quite what she is.
